


Tipping the King

by Tarlan



Category: Endgame (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post Season 1, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-29
Updated: 2011-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-25 01:32:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To win Sam and happiness, Arkady has to admit defeat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tipping the King

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **foolish_m0rtal** for Halloween Trick-or-Treat 2011

Arkady stared out of his hotel window in a rare moment of courage, feeling the frustration mingle with fear as he watched the small figure of Sam climb behind the wheel of a car and drive off. Once more he had sent Sam out to do the foot-work, depending on him to be his eyes and ears as they worked together on another mysterious case. At first, Sam's eagerness to help had appealed to what Hugo called Arkady's over-inflated ego but the passing years had made a different but no less dramatic impact upon them all. Sam was no longer a college student. He had graduated with honors befitting someone of his intelligence and, without Arkady's poor influence, he could have chosen to be so many great things but had, instead, become a police officer. A detective. Using the skills honed from working with Arkady, to solve crimes beyond the walls of the Huxley.

Arkady feared for him.

This latest killer had already struck a dozen times, choosing his victims from all walks of life, and from all types: men and women, black and white, rich and poor, young and old. Only his signature method of torture and killing connected him--or her--to the victims. No one knew where the killer would strike next, and this had left the city in the grip of fear, with too many scared people holding weapons that they were not trained to use. So many deaths had been attributed to unintentional killings where a frightened citizen had _defended_ him or herself in a fit of paranoia.

And Sam was out there, banging on doors, rousting criminals, interviewing anyone who knew any of the victims--and never knowing if one of those people was the killer. Never knowing if he had set the killer's hungry eyes upon him, making him the next target.

Arkady closed the curtain and stalked back to his plush couch, dropping down and reaching for the vodka bottle. He splashed a good measure into a glass and downed it in one swallow before looking down at the checkered board. Sam's board. The one he reserved for Sam alone. Alcina knew better than to touch any piece on the board even if there was no game in progress, and she made certain that all the housekeepers knew this too.

Reaching out, Arkady picked up the king and held it tight. It was the last piece Sam had touched before leaving and Arkady imagined that it still retained the warmth of Sam's finger as he tipped the king in defeat. Not that his mind had been solely on the game as they expounded theories and went over the deluge of information that made it so much harder to narrow down the killer. Too many leads going nowhere had the police running in circles but Arkady saw patterns and moves, and Sam was still the quick student.

Someone knocked on the door and Arkady sighed, recalling he had a new student who had paid for lessons. He smiled and let the man in, directing him to the board he reserved for others and hoped this student was at least challenging enough to take Arkady's thoughts away from his fears for Sam. The first hour passed quickly, with Arkady explaining why the man had lost each game. This student was no Sam Bescht though. He did not learn quickly from his mistakes.

The banging on his door interrupted the train of moves playing in his head and Arkady glared at it in annoyance as everyone knew to never disturb him when he had a visitor. He sighed, deciding it had to be an unusually quiet Hugo, and smiled mockingly at his opponent before pushing to his feet to answer the door.

It was Hugo--and Alcina--and their shocked, pale faces could mean only one thing: someone they all cared about was hurt or dead.

Alcina spoke first. "Arkady...It's Sam."

Arkady slammed the door closed, not wanting to hear her next words, but he heard them anyway through the thick door.

"Arkady! He is not dead! Sam is not dead."

Arkady leaned his forehead against the wood, choking back on a sob of relief.

"Arkady!"

"Balagan!" Hugo's muffled voice.

Arkady drew in a ragged breath and opened the door in time to see Hugo's raised fist freeze mid-descent. "What happened?"

Hugo lowered his fist. "He followed the lead you gave him, and caught the killer in the middle of torturing another victim. The killer grabbed a gun and...got off a shot."

Alcina reached for Arkady and he could feel the warmth of her small hands through the sleeve of his silk dressing gown. "The killer is dead but Sam is in Memorial hospital...in a coma."

Arkady straightened his shoulders and stepped back into his room, shrugging off his dressing gown and picking up a light jacket that he wore only when he wanted to look slightly more presentable to the rest of his hotel world. He stepped past Alcina and Hugo, and headed towards the elevators. After a moment's hesitation they followed but he refused to answer their questions, letting their words become background noise as he focused on the path ahead.

The lobby was bustling with people but Arkady ignored them all.

The automatic doors slid open ahead of him and he froze on the threshold, hands tightening to fists and eyes stinging with tears of frustration. Rosemary's death played out in a scene of fire and destruction, but the intensity faded beneath the memory of fingers brushing as Sam handed over a chess piece as they set up each new game. He closed his eyes and recalled his last image of Sam; of blue eyes sparkling and lips curled in a smile. He thought of all the times they had come close to saying what each of them felt for the other; of how often they had pulled back from the edge of commitment for fear of losing the friendship that both had come to rely upon so intensely. In all these years, Sam had never beaten him at chess though he had come so close on so many occasions, and now Arkady wondered if he had deliberately held back from winning in case that no longer gave them the reason to keep playing the other, more intimate game of want and need.

He fixed his heart and mind on that game now, thinking only of Sam's smile and shining eyes, of the small touches that could become a lover's tender caress. Scenes played out in his mind, visualizing all the negative ways that Sam could react and he dismissed all of them because he knew in his heart that Sam wanted this too. Instead, he saw images of Sam in a hospital bed, so small and vulnerable amid the paraphernalia of monitors and lines. He needed to be there--for both of them.

Arkady drew in a deep breath, to win both Sam and happiness Arkady had to concede defeat. Mentally, he tipped the king on this lover's game, and took a step forward.

END


End file.
